ke me!" Dan cried, in
accents of terror, and Joe replied, disdainfully:

"Don't be afraid, you bloomin' duffer. I ain't goin' to hurt you now,
'cause I feel too good. I'm only countin' on showin' what kind of a
detective you are, an' tellin' what'll happen if you hang 'round here an
hour longer."

"I'm goin' to New York an' have the perlice on your trail before dark
to-night," Dan cried, speaking indistinctly because of Joe's grasp upon
his throat.

"I'm willin' you should do that jest as soon's you get ready. It won't
bother me a little bit, 'cause aunt Dorcas told the story this mornin',
an' the man what put the advertisement in the papers has been out here.
Now, you listen to me, Dan Fernald, and perhaps after this you'll give
over your funny detective business. All them lawyers wanted of me was to
find out where the princess was, an' if, instead of runnin' away, I'd
flashed myself up on Pine Street, there wouldn't have been any trouble.
I ought'er black both your eyes for tryin' to set fire to aunt Dorcas's
barn; but somehow I can't do it, 'cause she don't like to have fellers
fight. Now you can get into New York an' fetch your perlice."

Joe released his hold of Master Fernald; but the latter was so
astonished by the information given, that he made no effort to rise.

"Is all that true, or are you foolin' me?" he asked, after a time.

"Say, the best thing you can do is to come up an' talk with aunt Dorcas.
It would do you a heap of good, Dan, an', come to think of it, you've
_got_ to go."

Master Fernald was not as eager to visit the cottage now as he had
been, for he understood that Joe was speaking the truth, and the
prospect of meeting the little woman, after all he had said and
attempted to do, was not pleasing.

"Don't let up on him," Plums cried, vindictively. "He's to blame for
this whole racket, an' ought'er be served out a good deal worse'n aunt
Dorcas will serve him."

Dan struggled manfully, but all to no purpose. His late friends were
determined he should visit the woman he had intended to wrong, and half
dragged, half carried him up the lane, until they were met by aunt
Dorcas herself, who sternly asked why they were ill-treating a boy
smaller than themselves.

"It's Dan Fernald, aunt Dorcas," Plums said, as if in surprise that she
should have interfered. "It's the same feller what wasn't goin' to show
you the paper till you'd 'greed to board him the balance of the summer,
an' in less than